


june, after dark

by vinylackles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, M/M, New Relationship, Seperation, canon world
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-09-17 15:42:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16977387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinylackles/pseuds/vinylackles
Summary: a story about an angel, a hunter, a choice, love, a kitten named bumble, and will





	1. chapter one: loose screw

**Author's Note:**

> hey everyone, it's me!! I have never posted to ao3 before, so bare with me if I mess it up lol. This is also my first ever destiel fic! feedback is always amazing :') thank you in advance for reading! Also, this story is cross posted on my tumblr (vinylackles) :)

Lebanon, Kansas was not usually referred to as an interesting place. Filled with corn fields, grazing cows, the occasional tornado and otherwise a whole lot of nothing, it lacked a certain luster. For most, it was the old, worn down hometown that they never really wanted to stay in. Eyes always set on the horizon, looking for a new place to settle down their roots. Lebanon never had a movie theatre, or a department store. No little cute coffee shops, no chain restaurants and surprisingly, not even a mechanic’s garage that carried parts for a 67’ Chevy Impala, much to some (one) of its resident’s dismay. But for the new-found couple, tucked a few feet below the ground of the town surrounded by books and weapons, it was home. 

The bunker they were hidden away in was abnormally quiet, even as bunkers go. Yet even in its early morning state under the soil, it continued on with its usual tinkering – the hiss of the oxygen in the air vents, the whine of the heater kicking on, the steady mechanical ticking of the ancient fridge in the kitchen. Out of all the bodies residing within its walls, only one was awake. And he was doing his best to not disturb the silence, but he was getting rather frustrated. 

“C’mon, stupid piece of kitchen equipment,” Castiel grumbled, resisting the urge to hit the side of the machine as he had seen many of his human counterparts do. He pressed a few buttons, waiting for a moment after each one to see the affect. Finally, after the third one the machine made a bit of a wheezing noise before finally conceding and beginning to spit out a dark black liquid into the pot below. 

Quite pleased with himself, he fiddled around the kitchen for a while until the machine had finished its work. He poured the coffee into one of the travel thermoses, screwing the lid on as he walked down the hallways to the room he had come from. Room 11. Dean’s room. Well, their room now, he supposed. 

He made sure the door was silent as he snuck back inside, closing it behind him. Dean had sensed his absence it seemed. His limbs were spread out across the bed, the covers in a disarray, flowing around him like water. The most adorable of frowns was stretched across his face, a furrowed brow to match. Cas felt his heart swell at the sight. Even with the frown, he looked more peaceful than he had in long time. And more importantly, he looked like Dean. Hair disheveled, and a tiny hint of the toothpaste from last night left on his lip. Completely human. 

Cas sat the coffee down on the nightstand, reaching a hand over and running it through Dean’s short locks gently, convincing a few of them to lay back down where they belonged. The others sprung right back up once his fingers passed them. He stirred at the contact, tensing at first, one eye flying open. When it landed on Cas he relaxed again, the hand that was traveling towards the gun under his pillow stopping against the sheets. 

“Good morning,” Cas said quietly. “I made you coffee.”

“Mornin’. I was wonderin’ where you went,” Dean grumbled, bringing a hand up and rubbing his eye with the back of it. He reached his other hand out, searching. Cas helpfully placed the cool metal in his grasping fingers. 

“Not what I was lookin’ for,” Dean mumbled, letting go and waiting for Cas to catch on. It took him a moment, but he eventually placed his own hand there instead, interlacing their fingers and pulling a smile out of Dean. He lay there, content for another few minutes, letting his thumb trace lightly over Cas’ soft skin. 

“You should get up. I know you wanted to go to that mechanic in Omaha today, it’s a long drive according to google maps.”  
Dean sighed, letting go of Cas and pulling the warm covers back off his bare legs reluctantly before finally rising from the bed. Cas watched as he went through his usual morning routine, all the way to tying his shoes and grabbing his keys.

“Are you gonna go barefoot or what?” Dean asked, quirking an eyebrow as he backtracked to the nightstand to grab his coffee.

“What?” Cas asked, looking down quickly at his socks – they were taller than the usual ones he wore, bright blue fabric covered with a pattern of bees. A gift from Sam a few years back.

“I mean, cute socks, but…” Dean seemed to read the confusion on his face, pausing for a moment. “You do wanna come with me, right? You got other plans today?” He asked, a bit of concern sneaking into his voice.

“Oh. Oh! I didn’t realize that you wanted me to.” Cas felt his heart swell again, though it hadn’t had much time to deflate.

“’Course I do. We’ll make a date out of it, huh? What’s that, our fifth one now? We’re on a roll.” Dean offered him a sweet smile, swinging his keys around his finger a few times as Cas scurried over to the closet, grabbing his shoes that he’d kicked off the night before. He had them laced up in record time and without really thinking about it, he grabbed onto Dean’s hand. 

The happy pair weaved through the familiar hallways, climbed the metal stairs and headed outside to the car. Dean pulled ahead a bit, opening the passenger door for Cas. He remembered seeing this in a few movies so he quickly climbed in, blush flushing his cheeks as Dean closed it carefully and came around to the driver’s side. 

“To Omaha we go,” Dean smiled, took a swig of his coffee - which was stronger than any he had ever had before - and headed out towards the open road.  
Their conversation started a few miles later, the outskirts of Lebanon flying by the windows, their hands intertwined and resting on the cool leather between them. 

“So this is our fifth date?” Cas asked, cutting the silence.

“I think so. What, did I miscount?” 

“I was under the impression that it was our sixth.” That granted a raised eyebrow from Dean. 

“Sixth? What were the first five?” 

“Well, the first one was the night you came back.”

Cas regretted his words instantaneously. He saw the way Dean drew his breath in a little too quickly, similar to what he did when he got injured on a hunt. He had hurt him with just a few words.

“That isn’t what a date is Cas.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you didn’t feel that way. I just thought dates were important days in the relationship that usually coincided with going out and doing nice things. But not always.” Cas resisted the urge to pull his hand away from Dean’s. To shelter himself again. He didn’t like making mistakes. To make things even worse, Dean was silent for a few moments, watching the road much more intently than usual.

“I’m sorry Dean, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Cas repeated his apology, eyes trained downwards. Dean pulled his hand away, but only to place a few gentle fingers underneath Cas’ chin, to pull those beautiful blue eyes back up where he could see them.

“It’s okay sweetheart. I’m not mad. I just… didn’t think you would like rememberin’ that night. I was a wreck.” 

“Yes. You were a wreck. But you were back…”

* * *

_Dean had come stumbling into the bunker in clothes that weren’t his, Sam supporting most of his weight as they clamored down the stairs. And Cas had run to him – he couldn’t help it._

_“Is he hurt? What happened? Sam, is he alright?!” He had yelled even though Sam hadn’t had a chance to answer him._

_“Cas, breathe. He’s just exhausted. I think it’s all just kinda hitting him now.”_

_“Cas?” His voice was raspy, and tired and worn and slightly off, but it was Dean. Not Dean begging for him to save him through prayers, not Dean’s voice on the answering machine that Cas called three times a day, but real, actual, Dean._

_“Oh god,” was all Cas could say, and he didn’t care who was watching, or that Sam was holding him, or that this wasn’t how this was supposed to go. He closed the space that was left and pulled Dean into a bone-crushing hug. The hunter’s weight shifted entirely away from his brother, and Cas could feel Dean’s arms wrap around him, albeit weakly. Cas held him up, relished in the contact and the weight of him. It was just a reminder that he was really, truly there._

_“I hate to bail, but I’m beat. Can you get him to his room?” There was a look in Sam’s eyes, and even with all of the aspects of human emotion that Cas failed to understand, he knew what Sam meant. He was giving him time. The time he so desperately needed._

_Cas didn’t have to answer. He simply began to move down the hallway, practically carrying Dean – an easy feat for an angel. And when he got him back to his room he seemed to relax more, the familiar feeling of his bed comforting as Cas sat him on the edge of it._

_“Do you want me to find you something else to wear?” Cas asked. He knew that Dean wouldn’t want to be in a suit any longer than he had to, especially not the one he had on now. He knew that if he looked in a mirror, all he would see was Michael. Dean didn’t answer, just stared at the floor for a bit, so Cas went to the dresser and pulled out an old band t-shirt, the softest one he could find._

_“Dean. I know you don’t wanna stay in these clothes. Can I help you?” Cas crouched down so that he could meet Dean’s downward gaze. He was shutting down, internalizing. This wasn’t new. Cas had seen him do it before, but never to this scale._

_Dean closed his eyes and he nodded slowly, keeping them closed as Cas began to strip him down. First the jacket, then the vest. The dress shirt, the undershirt, the dress shoes. His belt was a bit trickier, and Cas eased him up on his wobbly legs again. Dean’s forehead rested on Cas’ shoulder as he undid the leather, and the button and the zipper of his pants before letting everything fall by his ankles. Dean stepped out of them slowly, kicking them away with as much force as he could muster. They barely moved an inch. Cas grabbed the spare shirt, pulling it over Dean’s head and coaxing his arms through, like dressing a toddler._

_“Cas. The things that he did. The things I must have let him do. I saw the bodies Cas.” Dean’s voice was barely above a whisper as he lifted his head. His eyes were swimming and it broke Cas’ heart._

_“Shhhh shh shh, not tonight Dean. Not tonight.” Cas pressed a quick kiss to his forehead, wrapping his arms around him again and leading him to the bed. They didn’t bother with covers. Dean simply curled up as small as he could, his body pressed to Cas’ everywhere that he could muster._

_“I’ve got you. You’re safe love. You’re safe.” Cas repeated it over and over again, pretending not to feel the tears soaking through his shirt as Dean went to sleep…_

* * *

“I really don’t constitute that as a date. I think I’m gonna veto that one from the list,” Dean’s voice pulled Cas out of the memory. Their hands had found each other again, and Dean squeezed. 

“I took care of you. Maybe it wasn’t a date, but it was still a very important part of our relationship.” Cas traced over some of the calluses he found on his lover’s fingers, mulling over how they got there.

“Sorry ‘bout that. I was a mess,” Dean murmured. He was embarrassed, a soft pink blush flushing his cheeks. A rarity. 

“I’d do it again. Over and over again.” The answer was as automatic as the next song playing on the tape Dean had shoved into the player earlier. He looked over at Cas for a while, and he couldn’t quite read his expression. 

“I know you would. C’mere.” Dean tugged on his hand, coaxing him to slide across the leather bench seat. He tucked his arm around the angel’s shoulders and pressed a quick kiss to his temple as they continued on down the road, both of them quiet within their own minds.

* * *

The drive went much too fast for Cas’ liking, and it had nothing to do with the speed in which Dean was driving. He could remember so many past days in this car that had seemed to drag on for ages, long treks back from far away hunts, alone in the backseat. And yet this one seemed to fly by, his head resting on Dean’s shoulder for the last few hours, the hand that wasn’t on the wheel either on Cas’ thigh or holding his hand, toying with his fingers.  His slightly off key singing filled the silence until the familiar crunch of gravel under tires signaled their arrival, much to Cas’ dismay. 

“How do you find places like this?” Cas murmured, sitting up and rolling his neck around a few times, watching as more and more junk cars began to appear on the sides of the road as they approached the garage. He hadn’t expected an actual mechanics shop – Dean didn’t need those, he was smart enough to do it himself – but this place was even rougher than he expected. 

“Bobby never trusted Sam and I to be alone in his house. Too many things to get into I guess. So anytime he needed to go get somethin’ for the cars, he’d drag us along. He used to come here all the time, and I know this guy carries the right parts for Baby.” 

“I don’t understand why your car needs new parts if you can drive it. Isn’t the purpose of getting a new part to replace one that is no longer working?” Cas said as they rolled to a stop. He watched as a heavy set man peeked around the corner from the garage, his hands blackened with grease, his jean’s covered in handprints of dirt. 

“Gotta have the best parts to keep her runnin’, and if you know enough about cars you know when one is almost done for. I’ll teach you about it sometime,” Dean offered a small smile before stepping out of the car. 

“Harry! Good to see yah man,” Dean walked up to the mechanic, offering a handshake. Harry turned to greet Cas, but his attention was on something completely different. A tiny little striped tail poking out of an old coffee can, which was making an odd rattling sound as it shook slightly, behind an old broken down truck.

“Hi Dean. Long time, you grew up taller than I thought you would. And you must be… that’s not Sam… right?” Harry’s voice was deep and booming as he gave Cas a once-over.

“Oh no that’s Cas. He’s my um… my-“

“Hunting partner. We hunt together. Monsters.” Cas finished the sentence for him, but he didn’t turn his attention away from the wiggling can. Instead, he began to walk towards it, feeling a bit entranced. 

“Right… Well, I’m assuming you came here needing a part for that beauty. C’mon, let’s look at what I’ve got.”

“Cas, you comin’?” Dean called, but Cas had already disappeared around the corner. He dismissed it with a shrug and followed Harry inside of the garage.  
Cas was more cautious than he probably needed to be as he approached the Folgers can. But he’d learned in his time with the Winchester’s that it never hurt to be too careful. He reached down slowly, getting ready to grab it when suddenly the tail disappeared, slithering back down into the container. 

Crouching down, he pinched the loose lid between his fingers, easing it up ever so slightly, still scared to see what awaited him inside. And instead of a monster’s growl or bared teeth, he was met with a tiny meow and soft fur against his fingers.

A kitten. A tiny, tiny kitten. With a bright pink nose and tiny little ears, gray stripes all over and tiny white paws, which were batting around a loose screw within the can. The small creature looked at up him, quirked it’s head a bit to the side, and then promptly leapt out of the container, tail held high as it began to head towards the woods. 

“Wait! Hang on little fella!” Cas looked back and forth frantically between the garage and the woods, unsure of what to do. He shouldn’t leave without telling Dean where he was going, but every fiber in him was telling him to follow the kitten, wherever it was so determinedly going. And so he wove between the cars and miscellaneous parts until they gave way to woods, eyes trained so carefully on the little furry tail that he didn’t see what they were heading towards. Not until another hand scooped the kitten up, holding it close to his chest.

When Cas looked up, the face was familiar enough. Last time he had seen it, it had been sunken in, tired and worn. Dying. Now, it flourished again, in peak condition as it was meant to be – a testament of mass improvement.   
In front of him, running his fingers through the kitten’s fur, was God.


	2. chapter two: the calling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooo things are about to get ANGSTY

To say he was shocked was an understatement. The last he had heard about God’s whereabouts he was off in a far galaxy, experimenting new creations with Amara. And now here he was. In front of him in the woods in Nebraska, with a tiny kitten in his hands. 

“Hello Castiel. It’s been a long time. I see that you found my friend.” He looked down at the kitten, who had very casually curled up in a tiny ball and was lulling itself to sleep with a few purrs in his palm. If Cas’ thoughts hadn’t been otherwise engaged, he probably would have smiled at how precious it was. 

“You’re back,” is what he said instead.

“Indeed. Apparently, I missed quite a lot.” His diction was more formal, and he looked less like Chuck and more like the ethereal being that Cas had spent his entire existence hearing about; a man to be feared. His hair was shorter, his beard shaved. No graphic t-shirts and converse. Something had changed on a deeper level, though Cas couldn’t put a finger on it. 

“Yes. You could say that. Why are you here?”

“I needed to speak with you.” 

“And you choose here?” Cas looked around, almost sure that there would be other settings that would be better suited for the meeting. Especially since it was God after all, and he could choose anywhere he liked. 

“It’s private, and I needed to speak with you alone.”

“Dean is right around the corner,” Cas warned. “He’ll be wondering where I am.”

“Your lover won’t realize that you’re gone, don’t worry. If our conversation runs too long, I’ll… pause things. Our matters are much more important.”

Cas waited, a nervous knot forming in his stomach. What could God want with him? Something so important that he’d come out of hiding again just to tell him. He doubted that was a good thing.

“The natural order of this place has been… disrupted. When I created the arch angels, I never really considered the fact that they may be able to travel between different dimensions of time and reality. In all honesty, I never thought that a Nephilim as powerful as Jack would come into being, so the thought never worried my mind. But alas, as I so often seem to be, I was wrong.”

“As I’m sure you guessed, I’ve been off with my sister. And she has taught me much more than I could have hoped for. But most importantly, she has told me that I need to take responsibility for the things that I create and bring into the world. I need to make it right.”

As unnecessarily wordy as his response was, Cas understood the point that he was skirting around. 

“So you know about Michael, from the apocalypse world. And you’re here to stop him.”

“Not exactly. I won’t need to take any action in that. Besides, I have a weak spot for my children, I often find it hard to kill them. I highly doubt I’m the best suited for the job.”

“The humans on this earth are your children as well. Dean is your child, and you left him here to be taken over by your power hungry, malicious, evil son. Or had no one filled you in on that little incident.” Cas couldn’t hold his tongue, although he knew that he should. He could feel the heat rising in him, filling him to the fingertips.

“Easy, Castiel. I am fully aware of everything that has happened, and I know how frustrated you must be. The way I see it, it makes you perfect for the job.”  
“The job?”

“I need you to stop Michael. To put an end to him.” His tone was very matter of fact, and it angered Cas to his deepest fibers.

“Right. I haven’t been trying to do that since he came over here in the first place or anything. Let me get right on that.”

To the angel’s surprise, God simply laughed. He bent down slowly, shifting the kitten that Castiel had almost forgotten about into one hand, gathering a few leaves together to make a bed of sorts before sitting the tiny creature down amongst them. He wiggled a bit at the new surface, peaked one blue eye open, and then settled back down into sleep. 

“Your anger will help fuel you. When I made you, I knew that you would be protective to a fault. You will do anything to protect those you love the most, which means you will do absolutely  _anything_  to stop Michael. That is why I need you Castiel. You do not know the meaning of quitting, you never have.”

“But I’ve been trying. I’ve exhausted everything that I know how to do. How am I supposed to stop him?” Cas hated the way the words sounded. He felt like a small child, begging. 

“Did I ever say that I wouldn’t offer you any help? There is someone who knows far more about Michael. He’s a… closer relative of his, I suppose. I would like you to speak to him. Meet him in the Amazon as soon as you can get away without anyone noticing. He will help you in your mission, which should remain between you and him. No need for Dean to know, for his own sake.” 

“How am I supposed to get to another continent by tonight?”

“Oh, right. I forget sometimes, about the fall.”

And with a simple snap of his fingers, Castiel’s wings were restored. The feeling was euphoric, like stretching out a muscle that had been cramped for as long as he could remember. He had forgotten what it felt like, to have his feather touched by the wind, not just the cold air on the bare bones of the skeletal remains. He let them stretch to their widest range, relishing in the sensation again. It took him a moment to realize that his grace had been restored to its full capacity as well.

“I wouldn’t keep him waiting long Castiel. As soon as you can get away from Dean with no detection, you should go. I’ll be watching. Remember why you rebelled, and who you can trust. Oh, and if you don’t mind, take care of my friend for me. I think you’ll find him quite endearing, and possibly useful.” 

And with another snap as simple as the first, he was gone. Cas stood there for a moment, unable to make his feet – or his wings now he supposed – move. The whole interaction had come so far from left field he wasn’t sure he even wanted to catch it. But he supposed now he didn’t have much of an option. 

“Well, I guess you’re coming with me since I’m responsible for you now.” Cas sighed, reaching down into the leaves to scoop up the kitten, who meowed very quietly and rested in his hand. He carefully opened one of the pockets of his trench coat, placing the creature in it. He curled up, completely content in his cozy new home. 

Like riding a bike, he tensed the right muscles and suddenly he was up in the air again, flying freely. It was glorious, so glorious that he almost forgot that he was trying to be discreet, and appearing out of thin air was the opposite of that. At the last moment, he veered to the left, landing behind the frame of the van. Good thing too, because Dean was already outside the garage, a small box in his hands.

“There you are. Where the hell did you go?” He said as soon as Cas emerged from behind the vehicle. 

“I was just… walking.” The lie felt odd on his tongue. He hadn’t lied to Dean in a long, long time. 

“Right… Well, you ready to go? I was thinking we should stop for lunch, I’m starvin’.” 

“Sure.”

And so Cas followed Dean back to the impala, coat pocket heavy and mind heavier.

* * *

“So. These five dates. You wanna elaborate?” Dean asked. At least, that’s what Cas thought he asked, considering the words were inhibited by an un-humanely large bite of a burger.

“I would assume your thoughts would be the same as mine. You were present during them, after all,” Cas murmured.

“Well, the first one you came up with was way off base. So, I’m curious what you think the other ones are.” Dean continued eating, shoving fries in his mouth at an alarming rate while Cas began to speak.

“First one was the night you came back. The second one was that hunt in Arizona. We left Sam back in the hotel and drove all night, out into the desert. Third was our Halloween movie marathon. Fourth was the hunt in Indiana, though I didn’t enjoy that one particularly.”

“What!? That one was fun! I took you to that weird antique shop and bought you that creepy snow-globe you wanted!” Dean looked honestly offended. 

“Yeah, and you almost got yourself killed the next day. If I had to decide between a Christmas decoration with small woodland creatures and mediocre snow, or avoiding my boyfriend’s death, which one do you think I’d choose? Although, if I’m so worried about your death I suppose I should make you order a salad once in a while. You’re going to get heart disease.” Cas eyed the grease on the plate that had snuck out the back of Dean’s burger. 

“And I need to start burning Sam’s Men’s Digest mags before you get your paws on ‘em,” Dean grumbled. “You only said four dates. What’s the fifth?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but all that came out was a small meow, though it didn’t come from Cas. Unfortunately, Dean heard it, even over the bustle of the diner. Damn hunter’s senses.

“Do you see a cat in here? I swear I just heard one.” He looked around, ducking a little to peak under the nearby tables. 

“No. There is most definitely not a cat in this diner,” Cas panicked. If he could sweat, he would be doing so. In all honestly, he had forgotten about the little creature in his pocket, and he wasn’t sure how Dean would react. He hadn’t really considered it, with everything else he had going on in his brain.

“Castiel.” Dean rarely used his full name. He assumed that if he’d had a middle or last name, Dean would have used those too, for emphasis. “You better not have a cat in your friggin’ lap.”

“I don’t have a cat in my lap.” Cas said proudly, much to Dean’s relief. “He’s in my pocket.”

And as if he understood, the kitten popped his head up, two bright blue eyes wide and awake, and seemingly very interested in all of the patrons in the restaurant. 

“Cas! You can’t just carry kittens around in your pockets. What the hell, man!?”

“But he’s mine. And I love him.” 

“Yeah, alright, I hear yah. But you coulda just told me. He probably belongs at Harry’s anyways; he has a bunch of strays out there. He gives em’ all food, they live happy lives.” Dean was eyeing the little thing, who was paying him no attention, and instead watching the sunlight glint off of the fork resting beside Dean’s plate.

“This one is my responsibility. I’ll care for him. I know you don’t particularly like cats. I also think it’ll be good for Jack to have an animal around.”

The kitten launched itself then, wiggling out of Cas’ pocket and jumping, just barely clearing the table. Its little paws slipped and skidded on its quest towards the shiny object, and Dean snatched it and held it under the table, the waitress missing the incident by just a few seconds.

“Anything else I can get you gentlemen?” She asked, popping over to their table.

“Just the check ple-OW!” Dean said, suddenly bringing his hand up to suck on his finger.

“You alright dear?” The waitress looked concerned, her eyes flicking back and forth between the two of them. 

“Oh yeah, just  _peachy_.” 

Cas felt a tiny furry tail rub against his ankle where his pant leg had ridden up a bit. He looked down to see the kitten pawing at the pattern of bees on his socks. Cas found it immensely amusing.

“That lil son of a bitch bit me!” Dean murmured across the table as soon as the waitress was out of earshot, still cradling his finger.

“Well, you startled him. Here, let me see.” 

Reluctantly, Dean held out his hand, revealing the scratch mark and one tiny wound, with a single drop of blood. Cas swiped a finger over it, healing it instantly.

“Better?” 

“You didn’t need to use your grace for that, it was just a scratch.”

“I have plenty to go around.” Cas immediately regretted the words. He was never going to make it without blowing this whole operation before it had even begun.

“Yeah? Since when.” 

Cas was saved from answering as the waitress came back and set the check down on the table. Dean reached for his wallet, throwing a twenty down before rising quickly from his seat. Cas discreetly reached under the table and scooped up the kitten, who seemed very sad to be moving away from the bee socks he was so intently playing with. By the time Cas made it to the car, Dean already had it started and was tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

“If that thing scratches up my Baby’s leather, we’re leaving him in Nebraska, you hear me?” 

“His name is Bumble, and he won’t mess up your precious car.” Cas had just enough venom into his tone to let Dean know that he was going to give him this one thing, and the hunter seemed to get the message.

“Yell if you see a pet store anywhere. We’ll have to get him some food, and a box.” 

“And toys. Babies need toys, for stimulus.” Dean didn’t have to ask to know that Cas had read that in one of the parenting books he’d studied before Jack had arrived. At least the knowledge was going to get some use. And even if he didn’t want to admit it, seeing his angel in the passenger seat with the tiny kitten in his hands was adorable to say the least. 

Cas sat Bumble down on his lap, only to have him jump again, this time onto the dashboard. The pair watched as he looked out the windshield for a moment, then curled up on the vent, fur blowing slightly from the outpouring heat, his purrs matching up with the rattling of the Legos below him for the rest of the ride.

* * *

It was as if Christmas had come early in the bunker for both Jack and Sam. They were head over heels in love with the little fur-ball that was now running around freely as if he owned the place. 

“Bumble! Bumble, come back!” Jack would call out each time the new family pet even went out of eyesight. And he seemed to already know his name, because he would come prancing back with a new toy in his mouth – Cas had essentially bought the entire aisle of fluffy mice and small balls filled with bells. Sam was subtler, but each time Cas would leave the room and come back, he had moved to follow the little guy around, occasionally picking him up to scratch his ears. 

But, even with all the playing and love, when Bumble was ready to sleep, he meandered his way past Jack’s white sneakers and around Sam’s pile of files to follow Dean as he decided to head to bed.

“I thought you were going to put that car part on? And you were going to teach me how to do it.” Cas said, moving to follow him as well.

“I’m beat Cas. Bed is the only thing I’m doin’ right now… unless you have other plans.” Dean raised a suggestive eyebrow, earning an eye roll.

“We’re not having sex tonight. You said you were going to teach me about cars.”

“I’m sorry sweetheart, but I’ll show you tomorrow, okay? Promise. C’mon, let’s go to bed.” Dean’s eyes went soft, a mixture of sweetness and sleep. It made the pit of guilt in Cas’ stomach swell.

 He was stalling. If Dean went to sleep, he’d have no excuse for staying and not following God’s instructions. He supposed no one was forcing him to partake in this, but a shot at Michael was hard to pass up. And he knew his older brother well enough to know that unless he was dead, he was still a threat to Dean.

Try as he might, Cas couldn’t think of a valid reason to keep Dean up any longer than he already had. So instead, he followed him around closely, even to the bathroom to watch him brush his teeth. He didn’t know what he was going to be told tonight, but he had a gut feeling that it wasn’t going to be easy, or quick. And that meant more time away from Dean, which was the last thing he ever wanted. When Dean spun around from the sink, he had a frown on his face.

Cas couldn’t help it – he leaned forward, closing the space between them for a quick kiss. It wasn’t their first, but they had only shared a few, and Cas missed just barely, catching the corner of his mouth.

“Try that again,” Dean murmured, a gentle encouragement. Cas leaned in again, kissing him a little harder, getting the angle right that time. He tasted like spearmint and it brought a smile to Cas’ lips, which lasted until Dean effectively kissed it away. Dean never missed. He’d had much more practice than Cas, the angel supposed.

“What’s gotten into you today, huh? You aren’t usually this lovey-dovey.”

“Do you want me to stop?” Cas asked.

“’Course not. I just wanted to make sure that you’re alright. Is it about me not calling you my boyfriend, back at Harry’s? Cause, I was gettin’ there, I swear. It’s just kinda new, and I’m not used to saying ‘my boyfriend’, yah kno- “  
Cas cut off his ramble with another kiss. He had already forgotten that interaction entirely anyways.

“Didn’t miss that time. C’mon, let’s get you to bed.” Cas took his lovers hand in reassurance, pulling him gently back to their room. They climbed into bed after shedding a few layers that Cas knew he was going to have to put right back on. He didn’t care. Being close to Dean was all that mattered for the moment. He relished in the weight of him next to him on the bed, and as he began to doze off, Dean curled onto his side, right against Cas. His head rested on his chest, his hand coming up to grasp at Cas’ shirt, as if he was afraid that he would leave in while he slept. And it broke the angel’s heart to know that his fear would come true, at least tonight. 

And so Cas waited until Dean was snoring soundly to move out from underneath him and don his clothes again. He picked Bumble up from where he was laying on some laundry and placed him on the end of the bed, as if the small creature could replace his presence somehow. 

And then, he flew.


	3. chapter three: weapons drawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> meet my first ever OC wooooo!!

Even with the many times that Cas had been there, the humidity of the amazon rainforest always shocked him. He felt as if the air was sticking to him, clinging to every inch that it could find and squeezing him for more moisture. He couldn’t imagine the effect it would have had on him when he was human. As an angel, it didn’t faze him much. The forest was peaceful, but loud: birds chirping, insects digging, monkeys swinging, and far off in the distance, the rustling of much larger wings. There was an emittance of grace – that much was obvious – but he didn’t recognize the source. He’d never encountered this angel before.

Cas flew further, winding through the trees but stopping short enough to make a walking approach to the meeting – he wasn’t exactly in the mood to meet the business end of an angel blade today. 

“I’ve been expecting you Castiel. You may come out, I don’t smite.”  
Cas knew that the word play was funny – it was the type of joke that would make Dean chuckle under his breath – but he was so nervous that he didn’t even break a smile.

Sitting on the edge of a small stream was an unfamiliar man. His tanned skin peaked out from beneath the collar of his dress shirt. Cas tried to place what he could see of the vessel’s face, to match it with some familiar angel that he could remember from heaven. He thought back to before he came to earth and something clicked, but it wasn’t strong enough for him to name it.

“Still trying to figure me out, huh? Want a hint?” The man took Cas’ pause as a yes. “I’m the DJ upstairs, in charge of all the music. I interpret dreams. Oh, and I take every prayer of God’s people to the man himself. No biggie.” 

It hit Castiel then, like a load of bricks. He was unsure how he’d never thought of it before. A closer relative of Michael’s, that powerful of a grace… it was obvious. In front of him was one of the seven archangels. And based off those descriptors, he knew exactly which one.

“You’re Selaphiel.”

“Please, call me Sel.” The angel smiled, just barely looking over his shoulder. He was still fiddling with something beneath the surface of the water that Cas couldn’t see.

“We thought you were dead. No one has heard from you in a millennium.”

“I was a bit weighed down, you see. This human world is a scary, sad place Castiel. You know that, you’ve spent many years here. But a dark world yields many to prayer. Those all filter through me, but what happens when I have no one to deliver them to? They stay with me. That’s a lot of suffering for one angel, and I couldn’t take it.”

“God shut you out when he left? I would have thought he’d take you with him.” Cas furrowed his brow.

“I was the only connection he had left to his responsibility to this place… this creation of his. Why in the world would he ever want to take me with him? No, he left me just like he left everyone else. And, per usual, he only calls when he needs something.” 

“But if you’re alive, does that mean the others are too? Jegudiel, and Barachiel?” Cas tried not to let any excitement into his voice. The idea of having multiple archangels to back him, even if they weren’t as powerful as Michael, filled him with hope. He had almost forgotten that there were seven of them in the beginning. 

“No, my younger brothers fled this planet at the first sign of trouble. They wouldn’t even set foot here when Father said he wanted to create mankind, and because of their betrayal he ensured that they never would. They went on to one of Amara’s first creations. Horrid place that was, no idea why they would go. They met their demise, as to be expected. My aunt isn’t the kindest of creatures.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Cas murmured, deflated.

“You can save me the niceties Castiel. You have quiet the track record with archangels, I doubt you’re broken up over a few more. First Uriel, then Raphael. You had a part in sending Michael to the cage. I understand that Gabriel wasn’t your doing, but alas, he is still gone.”

“Uriel wasn’t my doing either. That was Anna.”

“Oh please, Uriel never stood a chance against you. You had a blade on you, you were just waiting to strike and Anna beat you to it. You were the one who uncovered his plan to set Lucifer free. You caused his demise, albeit it inadvertently.”

And though Cas didn’t want to admit it, he was right. He had planned a thousand ways to kill him as soon as he’d realized that it was Uriel who had sabotaged Alistair’s devils trap, that it was Uriel’s fault that Dean was in a hospital bed, torn and battered and beaten and barely breathing. The memory brought a wave of nausea to Cas’ stomach, the image Dean’s cheekbones lined with oxygen tubes swimming behind his eyes.

“You disposed of Raphael with a click of your fingers. Castiel, that’s 4 of the 5 players on the board that were removed by your hand, or those around you. In all honesty, I was a bit nervous to meet you. I’m not in the mood for dying today.” Sel made light of it, but Cas could still see a hint of fear in his eyes.

“I don’t kill without cause.” 

“Then I’ll be sure not to give you one.” The archangel stood then, tossing whatever was in his hands back into the stream. In a small pile were many glimmering gemstones – he’d been forming them, Cas realized. Sel brushed off his jeans before taking a few steps towards Cas. At full height, he was still a few inches shy of Cas. He often forgot that Jimmy’s body was quite tall, considering both Dean and Sam were taller than him. He had dark brown eyes, almost black, and a strong jawline. He looked intimidating, though his diction didn’t match his looks. For an archangel, he had been remarkably personable so far.

“I suppose you’re wondering why my Father sent you here.”

“He said I was going to meet someone who could help me. I’m assuming that’s you.”

“Indeed. I intend to help you bring down Michael, if you’ll have me.” He wasn’t demanding, he was asking.

A new relic of hope began to flourish in Cas’ chest. Here was an archangel, actually willing to help him in his fight against Michael. This was the best hope that they would ever have, no matter what else they decided to try. 

“You would do that? You would kill your brother?” Cas asked.

“My brother is in the cage. The Michael in your world now is simply an imposter, and I’ve grown tired of his games. He disgraces my brother’s name, and I want him gone. I heard that you would be my best bet, and that you’ve already begun working.”

“I’ve been trying, but I’ve unfortunately run out of options. I was actually hoping that you would have some ideas.”

“It’s your lucky day then. I have a plan, but it’s a bit drawn out. And it isn’t easy by any means.”

“If it kills Michael, I’ll do it.” 

You’ll do anything to protect those you love. God’s words rang in Cas’ memory. His mind was racing, thoughts circling themselves as he tried to get ahead of whatever Sel was going to tell him. 

“Well, here’s what I’ve got.” Sel sighed a bit as he sat down on the forest floor, leaning up against one of the trees. Cas sat down opposite of him, rubbing his hands together anxiously as he took mental notes of the plan.

“We need a weapon to take down Michael. He was the first archangel, and therefore he’s more powerful than any of us. Even my grace and yours combined doesn’t hold a flame to his. There is a room in heaven. Balthazar created it. It’s a bit of an armory, and it houses most of heaven’s most powerful weapons. There is a sword there, the Sword of Nazareth. It was crafted by my Father himself, and even he can’t undo the damage that it’s blade causes.”

“I’m familiar with it. I thought it was lost.”

“I’d be willing to bet that 95% of the weapons heaven thought lost are simply locked away in one of Balthazar’s many collections.” Sel rolled his eyes a bit before he continued.

“In an ideal world, we would simply return to heaven, open the door to the room, retrieve the weapon and kill Michael. However, our brilliant brother Balthazar didn’t account for the fall of heaven when he created his little treasure chest. The room is powered by heaven itself, seeing that it’s hidden deep within the matrix up there. With all of the recent angel deaths, heaven’s power is waning, and the room has been flagged as an ‘unessential power drain’. Its supply has been shut off, and diverted to more essential functioning parts of heaven, or so I’m told. Unfortunately for us, the power cut didn’t leave the door unlocked. Rather, it left it impenetrable.”

“But if you were to return to heaven, even temporarily, there would be enough power to divert to the room. And then we can open it, problem solved,” Cas explained, adrenaline pumping in his chest.

“Father was right about you; you are remarkably strategic. I thought the same thing originally. However, there are some major flaws to that plan. Michael has strongholds in heaven, some of which I don’t even know about. And he believes that all of the archangels on this planet are accounted for. And by accounted for, I mean dead.”

“Michael doesn’t know that you’re alive?” Cas couldn’t believe the words even as he repeated them himself. His luck was finally turning. Not only did he have an archangel, but Michael would have no idea that he was even a factor. The ultimate wild card.

“Correct, and I’d like to keep it that way. But now you see our problem. If I were to return to heaven, even for a moment, the power surge would be so dramatic that Michael would be sure to feel it. And even if he didn’t, his supporters would alert him immediately. This, Castiel, is where you come into play.” 

“How?”

“We don’t know exactly where the room is. And rumor has it that there is an override – a way to short circuit the system and get into the room, even with the power down. But I’m not sure what it is. That information would have been passed down to the weapons keeper of heaven, if there even is one anymore. Your job would be to return to heaven, discover the room, and uncover how to get in it. Then, past there we will handle whatever steps it takes to get in.”

“How am I supposed to find it? Or avoid Michael’s supporters? What if there is no override and I come back empty handed?” Cas couldn’t help the questions that rolled off his tongue.

“Castiel, have you no faith in yourself? Rumor is that you are often the brother who steps up to lead in times of trouble. Is that not true?” Sel quirked an eyebrow, lifting a palm leaf up from the forest floor and beginning to pick at it.  
“Those were not my finest hours.”

“All good leaders have great intentions. Whether they come to fruition or not is another story. Consider this your redemption arc Castiel. You can save your world, all by yourself.”

“I have people who can help, hunters who fought Michael in the other world, who know his methods. The Winchesters-“

“Let me stop you right there. If this mission is to happen, and succeed for that matter, it must remain between you and me, is that understood?” Sel’s voice was deathly serious, his tone changing on the head of a pin.

“Why? Even you must know the reputation of the Winchesters. They’re an asset, and the best allies we could possibly have.”

“And one of them, Michael’s perfect vessel, has been drastically compromised. Don’t let love cloud your judgement Castiel.”

For some reason, the archangel’s words infuriated him, and it took everything in him not to fly off in that instant. 

“My judgement is perfectly clear Selaphiel. Either Dean is in on it, or it’s not happening. I’ve tried to hide things from him in the past and it’s never worked out well.” 

“Suit yourself, but if you tell him he’ll be dead by morning,” Sel sighed, sitting the remainder of the shredded foliage down and standing up, as if to leave.

“Michael isn’t anywhere near Dean; I would have sensed him. And he chose to leave. Dean is safe.” The last three words were hard to stomach. Was he? Cas had left him, unprotected and alone in his bed in the bunker. Michael had infiltrated there before; he could do it again. Panic rose like bile in his throat and he felt his wings twitch a bit in voluntarily, as if they were going to coax him into the air and back home.

“Michael doesn’t have to be near Dean to hurt him. Surely you know about the mercy rule.” Sel said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He waited, the rush of the stream and the chirping of the birds filling the silence. Eventually, he let out a small chuckle.

“Castiel, why do you think that archangels burn out their vessels when they are through with them?” 

“I assumed that it was because they have no further use for the vessel, and they also have no respect for human life. No offence.” Cas tacked on the end, his voice yielding no emotion.

“None taken. It must surprise you to know that it actually is out of respect. When an angel possesses a vessel, they leave a mark, whether they intend to or not. A little bit of their grace remains in the body of the individual that they possessed. For ordinary angels, the human doesn’t really notice. The grace isn’t strong enough. But more powerful angels leave larger marks. And humans, even those strong enough to be vessels, can’t take it. Take your Sam Winchester for example. He was Lucifer’s vessel, and we all know Lucifer has no mercy. He used that grace to torture him until his last breath, and I bet you saw the havoc that it wreaked on him even if you didn’t know the cause. The only way to remove that grace is to kill the angel that is belongs to. And I guarantee that you’ve seen an improvement in him since Lucifer died, haven’t you?”

Cas couldn’t deny that he had. Sam had regained a confidence that Cas hadn’t seen in him in so long. He looked well again, and some of his nervous habits had ceased. He hadn’t rubbed at the old U-shaped scar on his hand one time since they had killed Lucifer.

“Lucifer isn’t even an arch angel, and his grace did that. If mine could do this –“ Sel let a tiny sliver of grace leave his fingertips, resembling a hair as it floated to the tree beside them. It wrapped around the trunk for a moment, followed by an eerie squeaking sound. Cas watched as the tree thundered to the ground as if it had been pushed with a bulldozer. 

“I doubt you want to see what Michael’s could do to your boy.” Sel murmured, watching Cas’ reaction closely.

“You didn’t need to kill a tree for dramatic effect.” Cas muttered, saddened by the birds that had taken flight away from the fallen structure.

“You see my point though. If Michael even gets a hint of an idea of what were up to, he can activate that grace inside your boy and do whatever he pleases. Disease, cancer, death, whatever he wants. I assume he would choose a slower, more painful method. And I guarantee he’s got it activated now, just to keep tabs on what’s going on. Listening. Watching. He has his most powerful weapon drawn where no one can see it Castiel. He knows that Dean’s death, or even sickness, would wreck your all’s entire world, and he’s banking on it. So sure, waltz right in there and give up our whole plan. Dean Winchester will be dead before you finish speaking, and that my brother, will be on you.”

“Enough. I understand. The only way to get the grace out of Dean is to kill Michael. And the only way to kill Michael is with your plan.” Saying the words aloud made them so much more real. He couldn’t risk it, he couldn’t not take this opportunity. It could be his only way to save Dean.

“Correct. So are you in?” 

“Yes.” The finality of it seemed to set in, and Cas could hear his heartbeat in his ears. 

“Wonderful. Then let’s get you into heaven.” Sel flourished his wings, crouching a bit to prepare for flight.

“Wait.” Cas said. He watched the muscles in Sel’s back tighten the way that Sam’s always did when he was annoyed. He tucked his wings back in before he turned around.

“I have… obligations. If I disappear without a trace, Dean will look for me. And he won’t stop till he finds me.” Cas explained.

“Let him look, he won’t find you.”

“You’ve obviously never met Dean Winchester. I need to tell him goodbye, convince him not to look for me for the time being. Then, I’ll be ready for the mission.”

“How exhausting must it be to love someone. This will be the last time you see him for the remainder of the mission. Understood?” 

“Yes.” Cas swallowed hard at that one. He could do it. He would have to, to save Dean. That’s what he was doing. Saving Dean. Saving Sam, Jack, Mary, Bobby. Everyone. It would be worth it. It would have to be.

“Come here. Take this,” Sel reached into his pocket and pulled out a stone. It wasn’t anything special, just a gray rock that was smooth with age. “This will counteract any incoming angel waves. I’ve used it to stay hidden, and I expect it to return to me. If Michael is listening in through Dean, all he’ll get is static. Return here in 24 hours, and bring that with you. See you soon Castiel.” Sel offered him a small smile, and then he braced and flew.

Cas stood there for a moment, turning the stone over and over in his fingers. Such a small rock with so much power, but he only had so long to use it. He walked to the stream, cupping his hands in the lukewarm water and splashing it over his face in an attempt to quiet the buzzing in his mind. He saw the glimmer of the gemstones there, an idea sparking in his mind. 

He picked the prettiest one he could find – an aqua shade that reminded him of the ocean – stowed it in his pocket, and took off for home.


	4. chapter four: the seventh date

Cas only watched Dean sleep for ten minutes, which he considered quite romantic and not creepy in any way, despite what he knew Dean would say if he found out. He also knew exactly what he was going to say when he woke him up, and it wouldn’t be nice. But the stone in his pocket felt as if it was a bomb, time ticking away so quickly it was sickening. He only had 24 hours before he had to return to Sel, and he was going to make the most of it.

So Cas leaned down over his lover and pressed a kiss to his temple, then his brow bone, his cheek, his jaw, back over towards his lips as he stirred.

“Unless you’re here to give me coffee or get in my pants, it’s too early,” Dean grumbled, but his body language told a different story. He relaxed under Cas’ lips, obviously enjoying the attention even if he wouldn’t admit it.

“We’re going on a trip; you have to get up.”

“Hunt?” He grunted, peaking an eye open.

“No.” He kissed him again, ghosting over the corner of his lips. “Just a surprise. I planned it for you.”

“So a date.”

“I suppose.”

“Cool, sounds awesome. Let’s leave in an hour.” Dean rolled a bit to steal a quick kiss before curling up into his pillow again. Cas sighed, pressing a cool palm to Dean’s forehead. He read his inner levels – temperature, blood pressure, neurotransmitters and hormones (the testosterone was pumping, per usual). With some slight pressure of his finger, Cas diminished the excess melatonin from his system. Dean’s eyes opened then, but he squinted them in suspicion at Cas.

“Are you awake now?” Cas grinned.

“I don’t know what you just did, but it was definitely cheatin’.” To Cas’ surprise, he felt two strong arms wrap around his middle, pulling him onto the bed before he could protest. The angel was not used to being manhandled, and he had to remind himself not to fight back. Dean rolled over, pinning Cas below him before he kissed him again. He was still warm from sleep, the skin above his scruff smooth as silk when Cas reached up to cradle his face. He let him kiss him for a while, having no will-power left in that moment. Dean had a way of kissing him that made his entire celestial being turn to mush.

“You smell… earthy.” Dean grinned his biggest grin, leaning down to kiss his angel again.

“Your flattery is cute, but you still have to get out of bed.”

“Make me,” Dean smirked. Before the human could blink Cas had rolled them over, hovering over top of him effectively.

“I _could_ lift you out of this bed like an infant, but I think you would find that rather emasculating.” Dean pouted at that, defeated. Cas kissed his forehead once more. “Get dressed, we’re leaving in five minutes.”

“Where are you goin’?”

“I’m going to find our cat.”

“Oh so he’s _our_ cat now huh? I thought he was ‘your responsibility’?”

“You love him too, don’t deny it. Now _get dressed_.” It was like trying to convince a stubborn headed toddler sometimes, he was sure of it. Cas let the door shut behind him, walking down the hallway as quickly as he could, ducking into the first empty room he came across.

He pulled the gemstone that he had picked up out of his pocket, admiring it in the light a bit. Very carefully, he crushed off some of the edges with his fingernails, making it small enough to suit what he needed. He used his grace to poke a tiny hole through the top, then with one deep inhale he began to let some of his grace flow out of his fingers and into the stone. When the process finished, the small gem had a slight glow to it – nothing that would alert Michael to anything suspicious going on. It gave Cas the smallest bit of relief to know that he could have at least _some_ connection to the bunker, and Dean, when he had to leave.

As if he knew that Cas’ next motion was going to be calling him, Bumble came prancing into the room, head held high and tail held higher. He looked as if he was reporting for duty, and couldn’t be more excited about it.  

“Hi buddy. C’mere,” Cas bent down, smiling as the excited kitten ran over to him. He scooped him up, rubbing his belly for a moment before he took the new collar that he had bought him in his hand. He slipped the stone onto the ring, letting it hang there for a moment. Bumble didn’t seem to mind, he simply rubbed his head against Cas’ palm, looking for more attention.

“You take care of Dean for me, okay?” Cas smiled and sat the kitten back down on the ground. He scurried through the door, turning right and heading for Jack’s room, no doubt. Cas was convinced the Nephilim had treats hidden in there. Cas left the empty room, prepared to head back towards his own, but Dean was already in the hallway.

“There you are. Ready?” Dean twirled Baby’s keys around his fingers a few times.

“You won’t be needing those.”

“Well we sure as hell aren’t taking your little blue go kart,” Dean countered, but he stowed the keys in his pocket anyways.

“We won’t need to. I need you to do me a favor today.” Cas put both of his hands on Dean’s shoulders, looking him dead in the eye.

“Depends on what the favor is. I don’t just give anything out for free.” Teasing, per usual. He was nervous.

“I feel as though I haven’t been the best at expressing my emotions in our time together. So I want to do this, to show you how much you mean to me.”

“Alright… Sweetheart you’re scarin’ me a little,” Dean chuckled casually, but Cas could see his fear in his features.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, I promise. I just need you to refrain from asking any questions. Can you do that?”

“Are you taking me to some surprise party or somethin’? Are there gonna be strippers?” Dean was deflecting with humor, per usual. He hated unknowns. It was going to be a hard day for him, Cas was sure.

“Those were both questions. Do you trust me?”

“I guess I have to, don’t I?”

“I suppose you’re right.” And with that, Cas moved to stand beside Dean, holding his hand with one arm and pulling him against him with the other. And he flew.

It had been so long since they’d done this, he had almost forgotten what it was like to fly with Dean wrapped in his arms. It was so fast that it would just be a blur to him, but Cas could see everything, _feel_ everything. The wind on his wings was glorious, and everything felt light and perfect. Before they landed he used a quick enochian spell to shield them, effectively making them invisible for the time being.

When they landed, he suspended Dean off the ground for a moment before gently putting him down on his wobbly legs. Once he’d recovered enough he looked up at Cas with wide eyes. He could read the questions swirling around in them. _How did you do that without your wings? Where are we? What about your grace? How are you strong enough for this?_

“Please. Don’t ask. Just watch,” Cas murmured, taking his hand and holding him steady, pointing over towards the room they had landed in. It was white, everything devoid of all color, including the clothing of everyone there. Dean just stared at him in silence until a booming voice echoed throughout the room.

“Garrison 98. Step forward.” The voice came from a stage like structure towards the front. Stretching out from the stage were rows upon rows of angels, all watching, waiting for instruction. The pair watched as several angels stepped towards the front of the room, heads held high. Dean recognized a few from past meetings.

“Your new assignment is to prevent a mass earthquake in Kuwait. Leader of unit, Himmat. Garrison 33, step forward.” Himmat moved to the other side of the room, joining a newly formed line in front of the rows. Unit leaders, Dean assumed. He hardly noticed the angels that stepped forward from the newly called garrison, but when he looked a significant number of them had moved.

“Your mission; retrieve Dean Winchester from hell, soul intact. He _must_ be returned to his original vessel. Leader of unit, Castiel.”

Dean saw him then. Cas was in the second row of the angels, his posture straight and proud. Dean could tell he was younger, despite the fact that he hadn’t aged at all, simply by the way he walked on his way to join the line. He was righteous; sure of himself and sure of his mission.

“You were my biggest mission you know. I had 72 angels in my command when I went to retrieve you. I lost 56 of them on the way. The rest of them bailed before I got to you, even though they knew you were special from the beginning. I remember the day you were born, you were all the buzz in heaven.” Cas recalled the memory fondly.

“What? Me? Why?” Dean murmured. Cas almost enforced his no-questions rule, but he decided to indulge him. Michael couldn’t use that knowledge against him, he would already know it.

“I remember it well, everyone lining up to catch a peak at the newborn baby of John and Mary Winchester. We watch over babies often, but we try not to overwhelm them. They can sense our corporeal forms better than adults, and it frightens them. But you were special. Michael’s perfect vessel. Everyone wanted to see you. Michael wanted you protected.”

“You watched me as a _baby?_ Well that’s not creepy at all.” Dean shuddered a bit, not wanting to think about it.

“You had very chunky thighs.” Cas left it at that, grabbing onto Dean’s arm and flying through time once more. Dean turned in towards Cas this time, burying his face in his neck. The scene they landed on was much more familiar. An abandoned barn, it’s once white walls now covered in sigils. Weapons all in a line, Bobby and Dean waiting anxiously.

“The first time we met,” Dean murmured.

“Not technically. We met in hell, but I don’t like to remember that.” Dean could hear the pain in his voice, and he squeezed his hand. He couldn’t imagine what he’d looked like when Cas had arrived. The panels on the roof began to shake, banging against the building frame.

“I did that just for dramatic effect you know. For some reason, I was almost nervous to come in here. Not because I thought you would hurt me, but because I wanted you to like me. I needed you, though I didn’t know in how large a capacity at the time.”

Dean didn’t seem to have words to answer that. They watched as the bulbs began to blow, the past version of Cas walking into the structure, blue eyes almost glowing.

“Should we wait for you to stab me, or should we move on?” Cas murmured, nudging Dean’s shoulder.

“Oh shut up,” Dean grumbled, but he had a grin on his face. Cas flew again.

They landed in a room that smelled of hand sanitizer and sickness. A hospital. It took Dean a moment to realize that the ragged body lying on the bed was him.

“What is this?” Dean asked.

“You aren’t supposed to be asking me questions, but I suppose you wouldn’t remember this very well. There were many pain killers in your system. This was after Alastair broke free from his devil’s trap. He beat you and I up pretty badly before Sam came in.”

“All I remembered was you telling me that I broke the first seal. And that I had to stop the apocalypse. Why is this important?”

 “You went in there on my request, and you got hurt. Because of me. This was the first time I really felt _emotion_. The guilt that overwhelmed me, I was so unfamiliar with it. It floored me. And Zachariah was already watching me so closely, I couldn’t risk healing you, but I _wanted_ to so badly. Looking back, I think this was the first time I realized just how much I cared about you.” Cas couldn’t stand to see him like that, so he flew without warning.

This time they landed outside, rain misting down in the cold. The past version of Dean was alone, his face lit up by the blue of the soda machine he was standing beside. The hunter could tell by the expression on his face that he was angry, but he couldn’t quite place the scene.

“This is the first time you prayed. You didn’t call me by name, but I was the only one that heard it. Because I was the only one you believed in.”

“Sam was trying to fight Lilith. And you gave me the tip, about the prophet and the archangels. You helped us, even though you weren’t supposed to.” Dean remembered.

“I’ve never been good at telling you no, even before you starting bribing me with affection,” Cas smiled, nudging his shoulder against Dean’s. The human blushed, ducking his head a bit – it was one of Cas’ favorite things he did. Dean could read Cas’ body language by now, and he braced as they took flight again.

The next scene was recognizable immediately. Dean’s entire body tensed and Cas rubbed a reassuring thumb against his hand, squeezing a few times. They were in a field, Dean bloodied and on his knees next to the impala. Hot, dry wind whipped at their clothes.

“Sammy just jumped into the cage, didn’t he? The ground is still shaking.” Dean murmured. Cas hurried to distract him before he got too caught up in the memory.

“I had thought seeing you in the hospital was hard to witness. But then this happened. You were so broken, and I healed you physically, once God brought me back. But I couldn’t help you emotionally. And I remember feeling this, pain, this _ache_ in my chest, that I had never felt before. I know it now as heartbreak. Because I loved you. Whether I understood it or not, I loved you.”

Dean only nodded, but Cas could see he was uncomfortable with where they were. He assumed it was something Dean had tried to forget and flew away quickly once more. The air was brisk when they landed, and the leaves crunched under their feet. He could smell autumn in the air.

“I’m sorry for taking you back there. But it was necessary, for you to understand this.”

Dean watched the past version of himself leave the shed, rake in hand. He remembered that Ben was in there, working on a school project, though Cas wouldn’t have seen him.

“What’s averting the apocalypse got to do with me doin’ yard work?”

“I came to check on you as often as I could when you were with Lisa. Heaven was in chaos, but I would still sneak away to come and see how you were. The first time I came, I intended to ask for your help. But I saw that you were _happy_. Happier than I had seen you in a long, long time. You had the family and the life that you’d dreamed of. And I couldn’t take that from you, not after what’d you just gone through.”

“It didn’t matter; it was too good to be true anyways.”

“When you lost them, you were broken again. And I couldn’t fix it. Again.”

“It’s not your job to fix me Cas.” Dean’s voice was soft, his eyes warm when Cas turned to look into them.

“You’ve fixed me, every time. We’re partners. What you can do for me, I should be able to do for you.” Cas said it as if it were the simplest thing in the world, and it made Dean’s cheek flush his favorite shade of red underneath all the freckles.

“Where to next, yah big sap?” He almost sounded excited.

When they landed again, they both tensed up involuntarily. Cas had to remind himself that they were invisible. Nothing would be coming after them in this godless place.

“Purgatory. Weren’t we just runnin’ for our lives down here?” Dean’s voice was gruff, and his senses were on edge, the warm fuzzy feeling brought on by Cas’ words long forgotten.

“You thought that I abandoned you, but you still prayed to me every night. You believed in me that much.”

“ _Benny_ thought you ran away, not me. I knew you wouldn’t do that.”

“I killed any monster down here that so much as breathed intent to hurt you. I’ve always felt fiercely protective of you, even before I had feelings for you.” Cas recalled the blood and gore of this place, the black slick of the Leviathan goo that often covered him. He had been prepared to stay there, to pay for what he had done.

“Thanks for that. And thanks for not lettin’ me drag your ass outta here, you self-loathing idiot,” Dean grumbled, still slightly bitter.

“I learned my self-loathing from the best. Two brothers, one a bit taller than the other. Perhaps you know them.”

“You’re just full of jokes today, huh?” Dean chuckled, bumping shoulders with Cas again. He leaned over to kiss the angel’s cheek before they flew off.

“Back in my Baby,” Dean grinned, relaxing back onto the bench seat, not really caring about what they were supposed to be watching at the moment. He was just happy to be back with his car.

“I’m surprised you’re familiar with the backseat, considering you’re always driving.”

“The backseat can be used for many other things baby.” Dean got that mischievous crooked smile on his lips, one Cas was getting quite familiar with. He wasn’t at all surprised by the kiss, but the intensity of it took his breath away. Dean’s lips here rough and fast against his, opening him up so he could go deeper, kiss him harder. Cas melted into the leather behind him, and Dean took full advantage. Smooth as water he guided Cas down so that he was on his back in the seat, Dean hovering over him, kissing the very breath out of him each time he ducked down. A tiny voice in the back of Cas’ head reminded him that Dean was good at this because Dean had done this before, but the much louder voice within him didn’t care. He tried to talk, but his lips were occupied and the sound came out muffled. Dean groaned a bit, letting up so that Cas could speak. But he couldn’t help himself, he kept peppering kisses in between the words.

“You’re – missing – what – I – brought – you – here – to – see – _Dean!”_

“You make making out exceedingly difficult you know,” Dean murmured, ducking his head to nip at the soft skin of Cas’ neck, right under the collar of his coat. He was going to leave a mark, that was for sure.

“It was when I was human. You were helping me get ready for what I thought was a date.”

“Oh yeah, the one that turned out to be babysitting. I was glad, I didn’t want you to go on that date anyways. Would have rather had you back here with me. Wait a second…” Dean perked up then, pausing his work and raising up to look at Cas. “Did you bring us back in time, or are we just in your head?”

“Time.” He shouldn’t have answered that.

“So when this happened the first time around, I was back here markin’ up your neck with hickeys and neither of us had any idea? Ha! I love it,” Dean grinned, leaning down to kiss him again.

“You’re going to have to let me up if you want to move on.”

“Who says I want to?”

“We have to love. Come on, just a few more stops.” Cas could be convincing when he tried to be, and Dean let him up, even if it was the last thing he wanted to do. They took each other’s hands and Cas took flight again.

This time they landed in the bunker’s library, bringing a frown to Dean’s face.

“I thought you said we had a few more!”

“Shhh. Just watch,” Cas murmured. The first person they saw was Mary, gun drawn. Cas entered shortly after.

“This was when Mom and I came back to the bunker the first time, isn’t it?”

“After you talked Amara off the ledge and saved the entire world. I thought you were dead – we all did. After that day I told myself that if you were ever going to walk to your death I was going with you, whether you liked it or not.”

“I’d rather neither of us die, huh? Even if our reunions are always pretty epic,” Dean said quietly, watching the scene unfold in front of him. Cas crushing him in a hug of relief. He could still feel it on his skin, even now. Cas would have been content to stay there, but their time was growing short. Almost an entire day had passed in their time, and Sel would be expecting him soon.  So Cas held on tightly to Dean’s hand and flew them home.

Although the change in scenery simply moved them down the hall and into their bedroom, it was obvious that they were back in current time. There was noise now; the muffled sound of a show playing on Jack’s laptop, the squeaking of the old filing cabinet as Sam worked in the archives. Cas was suddenly panged with the thought that he was going to miss those sounds. The people making them. This place, his _home_.

“Earth to Cas. You listenin’?” Dean’s voice broke through to him, though he missed what he said. He didn’t have enough time left for casual conversation, though he would have given anything in that moment to keep the happy grin on his boyfriend’s face.

“I have to go.”

“What?” Dean stopped fiddling with his jacket for a moment.

“Dean I have to go. I have to leave.”

“Why? What happened? Is it angel radio? Something wrong upstairs?” The concern in his voice shattered Cas to pieces. Dean came over to him quickly, forgetting all else as he put his hands on his cheeks. He scanned him over to make sure he wasn’t hurt – a reflex.

“I have an appointment to make. It’s important, and I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

Dean froze, and Cas could see the wheels turning in his brilliant brain. He was piecing it all together rapidly, and the angel knew that the dam was about to break. He pulled his hands back, leaving Cas feeling emptier than ever.

“What are we talkin’ here? Hours? Days? Weeks?”

“I don’t know.”

“The hell you don’t, when’d you make this ‘appointment’?”

“Last night.”

“Whose it with?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“The hell you can’t! Is it with angels? Michael?”

“I don’t want to lie to you Dean. Please stop asking me questions you know I can’t answer.” Dean threw his keys across the room. They ricocheted off the wall, almost bouncing all the way back to him with the force of it.

“ _Dammit_! So this whole thing today, this whole trip down memory lane crap was just to butter me up so I wouldn’t be pissed? Really? Hell of a date, Cas.”

“I thought maybe it would should you how much I care. How much I lo-“

“Don’t. Don’t say that to me right now.” Dean’s hands balled into fists at his sides as he took a few deep breaths to try to settle himself.

“Why? It’s true.”

“No. No, you don’t get to say that to me right now and walk, or friggin’ _fly_ out the door to go on some holy-roller mission that, of course, you can tell me nothing about! That’s not how relationships work, Cas. You don’t pull that type of crap.”

“I’m doing this for you. To protect you. I need you to trust me.”

“ _Trust you?_ You know Cas, I put up with this when we were just friends. The whole sneaking-around, ‘it’s for your own good’ bullshit. I’m not doing that anymore. So go on, go do whatever holy mission has your tailcoat on fire this week, but don’t expect a warm welcome when you get back.” He had his back turned now, and Cas could tell it was taking everything in him not to explode even more than he already was.

“I’m sorry Dean. I wish I could tell you more, but it’s for your own good. You would do the same for me, if the situation were reversed.”

“Just go Cas. Heaven forbid you’re late.” He meant it literally.

“Don’t forget to feed Bumble.” Cas said, just so that he could keep himself from begging Dean to turn around, so that he could see his face, his eyes, his smile one more time before he went.

 “Screw you Cas. Screw you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just wanted to say thanks for reading and for leaving feedback!!! :) you all are the best


	5. chapter five: noted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for reading!! I love you all!!

It sounded like World War III had erupted downstairs. Sam shot out of bed, throwing back the covers and clicking the safety off his gun in one motion. On instinct, he ran down the hall, throwing open the door to room 17, clearing it quickly. Jack was sitting on his bed unharmed, much to Sam’s relief, with Bumble clutched in his hands as the gunfire continued.

“Sam, what’s happening?” His voice was more worried than he had ever heard it.  

“Stay there. Don’t move, I’ll come get you when it’s safe.” Jack nodded once and Sam was gone. It put a pit in his stomach when he realized that Dean and Cas weren’t running towards the sound like him. His brother was quicker than him; perhaps he was already there. The gunshots continued in rapid succession and Sam pushed his bare feet to take him faster down the halls, weaving towards the sound. It didn’t dawn on him that he was approaching the gun range until he was at the door, pulling it open.

The shots continued as he surveyed the scene, and it didn’t take him long to put the pieces together. Dean was there, gun in hand, rapidly firing towards what was left of a target. It was just shredded material now, unable to hold up from the constant hail of bullets that were now just nesting into the concrete wall behind it. The ones that fell clinked against the colorful broken glass, a kaleidoscope on the floor, remnants of shattered empty liquor bottles. The hunter was wobbling on his feet, a bottle of whiskey in one hand, the other firing off round after round, aiming at nothing.

“Dean. Dean! Dean stop!” The only reason the younger man’s voice was even noted was because Dean’s magazine ran out. Instead of fiddling for another clip, he simply threw the gun to his left. It skidded across the floor, joining the pile of other empty guns that Sam had just now noticed. There had to be at least five that he had already discarded. Dean looked over at Sam with bleary eyes and a crooked grin.

“Get outta here,” Dean grumbled, trying to reach for the gun he stowed in the back of his waistband.

“Dean you’re drunk.”

“No shit, Sherlock. Now get lost.” He fumbled around, almost falling over as he searched behind himself. The whiskey sloshed out of the bottle at his efforts, leaving wet spots on his shirt.

“It’s 1am, and you scared the crap out of all of the whole bunker, Jack included. What the hell were you thinking?” Sam’s patience was growing thin already. Annoyed, he strode over to his brother, grabbing the gun before he could. Unfortunately for him, his brother’s reflexes were almost as good drunk as they were sober. He managed to get a hand on it, holding it as tightly as he could between them.

“Give it here Sam,” he murmured, but the words came out slurred.

“Jesus Dean, how much have you had?”

“Doesn’t matter, ‘m still a better shot than you. I need it. Gimme.”

“The only thing you  _need_  is a slice of bread and a shower. C’mon, let’s get you back upstairs.” Sam sighed, trying to grab his brother under the arm so he could haul him off. But he moved one of his hands off the gun. Big mistake.

“No! Give it here, dammit!” Dean’s anger began to flourish again, and they began to grapple for the weapon. The liquor sloshed between them before the bottle was ultimately dropped, soaking Sam’s sweatpants on its way down.

“Dean enough! Stop! One of us is gonna set this thing off!” Sam tried to reason with him while fumbling for the safety, but it was too late. With a sudden bang the gun discharged. White hot pain seared across Sam’s arm and he recoiled immediately, losing his balance and falling to the ground. 

“God  _dammit_! You shot me you idiot!” Sam yelled, rocking back and trying to catch his breath. He cradled the wound, daring to look at it. It was only a graze, but it was quite deep, his hand already slick and covered in blood where he held it.

“Oh no. No no no no Sammy, oh god. Oh god Sammy I’m so sorry. Here, I can fix it. Let me fix it I can fix it.” Dean dropped to his knees next to his brother, unsure of what to do.

“You’ve done enough,” Sam groaned, resisting the urge to punch him in the face. But when he looked over and saw his brother’s hands, shaking and hovering over him, he was hit with a memory. He had been cradling his arm much like he was now, Dean’s hand holding a fistful of the back of his shirt while he pedaled as fast as he could, rushing to the ER for his broken arm. He didn’t have it in him to berate him, no matter how much pain he was in.

“Dean it’s alright, it’s just a graze. I’ll be fine. Cas can heal it in no time.” 

Dean looked up at that, his eyes swimming.

“Cas.” It was as if he choked on the word. “Cas. No, no. No Cas. He’s gone.” The words seemed to take him by surprise, even though he said them. “He’s gone.” He repeated, and he fell back off his knees, landing hard on the floor. Now sitting, he pulled his knees up to his chest, burying his face in his arms as he began to sob.

Even distracted by the pain, Sam could see that he was rocking back and forth, one of his only tells. He didn’t know what had happened, but it couldn’t have been good. He hadn’t seen him cry like that in a long time. It went against every instinct he had, but he knew he had to stop the bleeding in his arm. With a deep breath he pulled himself up, swiping the gun up along with him and began to trudge up the stairs, leaving his shaking brother behind. 

He knew that he was leaving a trail of blood as he went, but there was nothing he could do about it. So he continued in search of the bathroom, applying as much pressure as he could and pausing a few times when he got woozy. When he finally made it, he sighed in relief, stepping onto the cold tile. 

“Freeze and put your hands where I can see them!” A small voice yelled. Sam drew the gun he had swiped, praying it still had bullets. But he dropped it immediately when he realized it was only Jack, who had a large knife raised.

“Woah! Woah hey, it’s me Jack, it’s Sam.”

And to his surprise, the knife clattered to the ground and Jack wound his arms around Sam so tightly it almost took his breath away. 

“I heard you yell, and I thought something happened. I’m sorry, I know you told me to stay in my room but I went to try and find Cas, so we could help.” Jack’s words were quick and slightly muffled against Sam’s shirt. He couldn’t exactly hug him back since his arm was now trapped, but he let go of his wound, awkwardly wrapping his arm around Jack whilst trying to keep the blood off his shirt.

“It’s alright, you have nothing to be sorry for. Actually, I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to teach you something.” He tried to distract him quickly, knowing he was still scared.

Jack perked up at that, backing up slightly and listening intently. He was always so eager to learn anything, especially from Sam. But his excitement faded immediately as he looked at Sam’s arm, finally noticing the blood.

“You’re hurt! What happened?” 

“That’s what I needed help with. Feel like learning how to stitch?” Sam wouldn’t have asked, but it was his right, and he’d rather not butcher the job.

“Won’t that hurt you?” Jack seemed wary.

“It’s going to hurt either way, but one of us has to do it. If you don’t want to, it’s okay,” Sam nodded at him, trying to reassure him the best he could without a comforting hand.

“No, no I want to help.” A look of determination crossed the young boy’s face and he nodded once, heading over to the cabinet to get the medical kit where he knew it was stored. He left the room briefly, coming back with two chairs that they could sit in – he’d seen Sam stitch Dean up before, and it seemed to be what they always did. 

“Okay first you have to clean it out, and clean all the materials. Then you just push the needle through my skin on one side and pull it closed by going through the other side. When you’re done, you just tie a knot and cut the rest off. Just keep going, even if it hurts me, and if you ever want to stop, just let me know.” 

Jack nodded, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he began to clean the blood off the wound. Once all the excess was gone, they could both see that the bullet hadn’t done all that much damage, just a lot of bleeding. Sam tried his hardest not to make a sound at the pain, offering Jack a tight-lipped smile every time he looked up to see how he was doing.

“Did you find Cas, when you went to look for him?” Sam asked, staring up at the ceiling as Jack continued to pull stitch after stitch through.

“No. He left a note under my door.” Jack’s tone had changed slightly, so subtle that Sam barely noticed it. He wasn’t going to ask for it, but Jack paused his work and reached into his pocket, pulling out a piece of folded notebook paper. Sam took it in his left hand and held it up so he could read.

 _Dear Jack,_  
      I have to leave, and unfortunately I cannot tell you where I’m going. Just know that it is important, and I wouldn’t be leaving you, Dean and Sam unless I thought that I really needed to. Listen to them, they’ll take care of you. Dean may be upset for a little while, but it’s nothing that you did. Try to be understanding, and talk to Sam if you need to. I will miss you, and I know you’ll take care of Bumble for me. I’ll see you soon.   
           Love,  
               Cas

“Did he tell you where he went?” Jack asked, finishing the last stitch and beginning to tie it off.

“I didn’t even know he left,” Sam mumbled, still in shock.

“He can’t tell us because it’s dangerous, isn’t’ it?”  

“Probably.” Sam wasn’t going to lie to him, even if it broke his heart to see the way Jack’s face dropped.

“Cas is a smart guy, and he’s pretty badass. He can take care of himself, and he wouldn’t have gone if he didn’t think that he could make it back. Try not to worry too much, okay?” 

Jack nodded, and Sam offered him a smile as he began to wrap gauze around his arm, but he could tell that neither of them felt any better.

* * *

Cas had a feeling in his gut that something was wrong. He also had the realization that it was probably going to feel like that perpetually, at least until he was back with Dean in the bunker. He accepted it as he trudged through the thick forest underbrush, unsurprised to see Selaphiel in the exact place they had met prior.

“Right on time. I presume you brought back what I lent you?” Sel’s voice was eager, and if Cas wasn’t so sad he figured his would be as well. He fished the stone out of his pocket, tossing it towards the archangel who caught it with ease. 

“Did you get everything arranged with all your precious humans?” Sel stowed the stone back in his pocket, walking a few steps to meet Cas.

“You won’t speak ill of my family if you know what’s good for you,” Cas threatened, and even he was surprised by the aggressiveness behind it.

“Understood. Do forgive me if I’ve struck a nerve, I just don’t completely understand human emotions yet, though I think one day it’d like to.”

“Enjoy your ignorance, it hurts less.”

“Isn’t that the sole principle of ignorance?” Sel mused at that for a moment, watching the birds in the trees.

“So what’s our game plan?” Cas asked.

“Oh that’s simple. First, you need to go to heaven and figure out where Balthazar’s room of weapons is, and how to get into it.”

“Oh right, that sounds perfectly easy and achievable.” Cas rolled his eyes. “Who am I supposed to ask? Who would know where it is?”

“I’m not sure.” 

“And if no one will tell me? Does  _anybody_  even know where it is?”

“I never really considered that.” Sel furrowed his eyebrows.

“Brilliant. No really, that’s great. I’ll just waltz into heaven with all my unanswerable questions, I’m sure they’ll react pleasantly to that.”

“I would go in your stead if I could, but we already discussed why I can’t. I don’t understand why you’re so upset with me.” Sel seemed honestly confused, and Cas had to compose himself; remind himself why he was really in the mood that he was.

“It’s not you Sel. I’m sorry, I’ve just got a lot on my mind. I’ll figure it out.”

“Just pray to me when you get back from heaven and let me know what you find,” Sel murmured, giving him a nod as he flexed his wings. They flew off at the same time, heading off in different directions. The route to the playground was less familiar by air, but he knew it well enough to land just out of eyesight so he could walk up. He wasn’t going to be on anyone’s good side if they knew he had his wings restored and couldn’t tell them how to fix theirs. He was careful to keep them hidden as he approached the familiar sandbox.

He was unsurprised when two angels appeared to stop him from entering.

“No human entourage today Castiel? Where is your merry band of minions?”

“I need to speak to Anael.” Cas ignored the jeers, knowing that if anyone would know about something they shouldn’t in heaven, it would be her.

“Why?”

“That’s between the two of us.” The angels didn’t seem to like that, but they didn’t have a good enough reason to keep him from entering.

“She’s in her office,” one of them said, stepping aside and letting the gate open. Cas stepped through, closing his eyes against the gust of wind that took him right to heaven. When he opened them again, the white was blindingly bright. He kept his head down as he moved through the halls, hoping to not bring any attention to himself. He shielded his wings from view, which wasn’t uncommon. Most angels now a days were so ashamed of the skeletal remains clinging to their backs that they never showed them anyways. Finally, at the end of the hallway, he found Anael’s door, knocking twice before letting himself in.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. Hello Castiel.” She spun around in her chair to face the door, a familiar look of mischief on her face. Cas could see that she looked stressed, though she hid it well behind her brown eyes.

“I come on business,” he reminded her, knowing that given the chance, she’d love to get into any type of trouble she could find.

“Of course you are. Always the noble one. What do you need?” She seemed a bit put out, but willing enough to help.

“Information that I’m not sure that you have. It’s more of a rumor, really.”

“Rumors are my specialty. Go on.” She perked up, leaning a bit on her desk, obviously excited.

“I’ve heard the Balthazar has a room of weapons. I was wondering if you’d heard anything about that.” Cas kept it as vague as he could, hoping she wouldn’t ask him to elaborate. Anael chuckled, shaking her head a bit.

“I’m surprised it took you this long to ask about it. Should have known you would figure out how to help him eventually. That little Nephilim is practically your son.” 

Her answer took him completely by surprise, and luckily she began rummaging around in her white desk drawers, giving him a moment to compose himself.

“Right. He is my son. I need in the room… to help him.” 

“Well, I can’t help you in getting inside. No one knows where the room even is. Supposedly, there’s a process to get into the room and once the person completes the steps to do it, it will reveal itself. This is the only information that heaven has left on it, since Balthazar is… unavailable.” She gave a knowing nod to Cas. He wanted to snap back that even if he hadn’t killed the angel, he still wouldn’t have given up his room. But it didn’t matter, and he kept his mouth shut as Anael handed him a small box.

“Balthazar told us that this was only be used in dire emergencies, and that the individual who dared open it would suffer the worst kind of torture imaginable. So, open at your own risk I suppose. And do it far, far away from me.” 

Cas gave her a nod, tucking the parcel into his coat pocket and heading back out of the office and down the hallways. There were quiet murmurs as he passed other angels – that had been happening for years. He tuned them out, assuming that whatever they had to say wasn’t pleasant. The eyes of heaven didn’t necessarily support relationships with humans. He pushed his legs a little faster, his wings twitching behind him, ready to get out of there. He fought the urge to fly until he had made it out of the gate and into the woods.

He paused for a moment, breathing unnecessary breaths to compose himself. It was the beginning of something big; he could feel it. Hope swelled in his chest for a moment, and he turned to his left, expecting to see Dean there, just as excited as he was. 

Little did he know that back in the bunker Sam was closing the door to their bedroom, having just dropped Dean’s limp form onto the bed. Dean had stirred and opened an eye to see Bumble, waiting expectantly on the other pillow. Cas’ pillow.

“He’s not coming back. You hear me? He’s gone.” 

And even though the hunter had thought he’d cried himself out, a few more tears fell as he watched the kitten curl up in a ball and drift off to sleep next to him.


	6. chapter six: my heart will go on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's been a hot minute!! i'm back!!

Tired of the amazon, they decided to meet elsewhere this time. A luxury of being an angel he supposed, they debated briefly over prayer before settling on going to the swiss alps, finding somewhere secluded high in the mountains. He wasn’t sure if the cold air stinging his eyes was from the speed of his flight or the wind in the mountains, but he didn’t have much time to debate.

“You haven’t opened it yet?” Sel spoke before his wings had even stilled, landing so close to Cas that he took a step to the side to create some distance. 

“Supposedly the contents of this box torture the individual, to keep it from being opened in times other than emergencies.”

“Sounds lovely. Leave it to charming little Balthazar.” The archangel rolled his eyes, brushing some of the snow that was falling off of his hands as he reached out for the box. Cas looked up at him in confusion. Sel returned the sentiment, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Castiel, this was my idea. I don’t want you to undergo any necessary pain, and I wouldn’t ask that of you. If anyone has to go through torture, let it be me.” He wiggled his fingers for emphasis.

“The one who opens the box is the one that the room reveals itself to. You can’t return to heaven to seek it. Besides, your grace is more powerful than mine-“

“And I would be able to heal you easier than you would I. I suppose there’s no other way then. Well just know, I’d give anything not to have you do this.” 

The words caused Cas’ throat to tighten and he bit back the bile, pushing the memory that the words brought back down.

“I hope it’s not too painful Castiel. And I will be here the whole time.” Sel’s voice was laced with concern, and it gave him a sense of comfort that he hadn’t felt with another angel in a long, long time. 

His hand was shaking a bit as he reached out, pinching the lid between his fingers. He slid it open carefully, easing it back to reveal whatever was inside. He tensed, expecting something to jump out at him when he finally removed the lid entirely. To his surprise, there was a small ring within the box. If he didn’t feel so apprehensive, he may have actually thought it to be pretty. But this was Balthazar, and he knew that it wouldn’t be that easy. Hesitantly, he slid the ring onto his finger.

“Hello.” The angel’s voice rang out as soon as the metal stopped moving on his skin. Cas looked to Sel, but the archangel was only watching him. It was obvious now that the voice was only audible to Cas, despite the fact that it was deafening to him. 

“You seek entrance to my weapons room I presume. State your name. Thinking will suffice, I am only in your head after all.” 

_Castiel_ , he thought as clearly as he could, closing his eyes to focus on what Balthazar was saying.

“Ahh yes. Hello Cas. You’re probably wondering how I’m speaking to you, considering I’m dead, thanks to you. This isn’t real, and the ring was enchanted by a dear witch friend of mine. She didn’t believe that I could survive the peril that it causes. Two full days of Celine Dion serenading me with that god awful song, I about lost my mind! But I won it from her, naturally, and now I’ve repurposed it for this. In order to unlock the directions to my weapons room, you must endure the torture that the ring mandates. The spell reaches into the deepest parts of your mind, and uses it against you. Take it off, cheat, or try to weasel your way out, and the ring with disappear from your finger and you will have nothing. Do you accept?” 

_Yes_. Cas thought clearly. There was an odd sensation in his chest, and he felt as though he were flying, though he knew his feet remained on the ground.   
“Good luck brother. You’re going to need it.” 

And with that, Balthazar’s voice was gone and everything was black. Bracing for pain, he could tell he was no longer in the cave with Selaphiel, but he couldn’t place where he was immediately. And it was quiet – too quiet. For a moment, he thought that he was back in the empty. But then, he heard it. Echoing off the walls he couldn’t see, piercing through the space and filling it from every side.

“ _CAS_!”

It was Dean. He’d know that voice anywhere. And it wasn’t just Dean, it was Dean in pain; a sound he was unfortunately far too familiar with. And he should have known, he should have  _expected_  this. 

He knew it wasn’t real, he knew it was just the ring, and he knew Dean was safe wherever he was. But that didn’t stop him from running,  _clawing_  his way through the darkness after the sound like he would die if he didn’t get there right then. He felt as though he would. 

The black gave way and he was suddenly in Dean’s bedroom. There was a faint trace of light in the room, just enough for him to see Dean’s outline on the bed. He was curled on his side, like he usually slept, with his arm tucked under the pillow. It had been a nightmare. He hadn’t called out like that for anyone since Cas started staying in his room with him. The pang in Cas’ heart at the sight was more powerful than he would have ever thought possible. How had it only been a day since he’d seen him?

The angel moved to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, relaxing at the feel of his familiar cotton t-shirt under his fingertips. The room smelled just like he remembered,  _felt_  just like it should.

“Dean I’m right here, you’re just having a nightmare. It’s okay,” Cas soothed him, rubbing on his shoulder just hard enough for him to wake up.

Dean turned over to him, like he always did in the mornings when his eyes fluttered open. He was expecting the usual groan, the searching hand, looking for him. But when he finally rolled all the way over, all Cas could do was scream. It was a sound that had never left him before, and it ripped through his throat and out his mouth without warning. 

Dean’s eyes were open, but they were empty. There were new freckles along his cheekbones and nose, and when Cas grabbed his face they smeared, leaving bright red streaks as the blood spread. 

“No, no  _no_  baby c’mon, wake up,” Cas groaned, moving to hold Dean in his arms. His limp body toppled out of the bed and onto the floor. Cas caught him, holding him up with one arm. He used his other hand to begin healing him, even though he didn’t know where the bleeding was coming from.  But no blue light came from his fingers, and he suddenly realized just how heavy the man in his arms was.

It hit him like a ton of bricks. He was human again. And there was absolutely nothing he could do. Dean’s body shivered in his arms and he realized that he was still alive, still pulling ragged, painful breaths in through his dry lips.

“It’s okay love, shh it’s okay, I’m here.” The words left Cas like a reflex, taking any opportunity he could to bring Dean the comfort he couldn’t provide.

“Help me.” Dean’s voice was broken and raw when he looked up into the angel’s eyes. Surely his eyes hadn’t always been that green, his face that beautiful. Before Cas could answer, another voice spoke out, echoing and mighty.

“This is what you wanted Cas. You asked for this once, remember?”

It was God. He wasn’t sure if he was in the room, or if he was just in his head. He couldn’t pull his eyes away from Dean to check.

“I don’t want it anymore, please Father. Help him, heal him.” Cas was sobbing, the broken sound seeming to surround both of them, coming back at all angles.

“You wanted to be human. This is what it means. This is what it feels like.” 

“No, no it isn’t. It wasn’t supposed to be this.” 

“You were selfish. You doubted your nature, you disobeyed. You wanted to  _feel_ , to love. You wanted more. Being an angel wasn’t enough for you, was it Castiel? Now look what you have. Look what you’ve become. You can’t protect him; you can’t protect anyone. Kelly trusted you with her son, and you can’t save him either. You are worthless Cas. To me, and to everyone around you. Without your grace, you are  _nothing_.” 

Cas turned then, his blood boiling. He expected to see his father’s human form, but instead stood a much taller man, his broad shoulders silhouetted by the hallway light. And in his arms, a much smaller form. Cas didn’t think there was anything left in his heart to break, but he felt the tiny slivers shatter as he realized what he was seeing.

“Dean?” Sam’s voice came out as if he was being strangled, and if he hadn’t been holding Jack in his arms he probably would have fallen to the ground right then.

The younger Winchester took a few steps into the room, dropping to his knees as he took in the sight before him, his brother bloody and dying. It wasn’t anything new to him, but Cas could tell that this time was different.

“I left him with you, I thought he’d be safe,” Sam said, and his voice wasn’t angry. It was disappointed, and somehow that was worse. 

“I’m so sorry Sam. There’s nothing I can do, I-I tried.”

“I did too. I was too late.”

It was only after his words that Cas realized how pale Jack was, how limp his small body looked in Sam’s lap. He didn’t have to put a finger to his neck to know that his pulse was gone but he did it anyways. His fingers shook against his son’s skin, and he grabbed at his shirt, his shoulder, anything he could get his hands on. Cas pulled Jack into his side with his free arm, still clinging to Dean with the other. 

He wasn’t sure why he started to rock the smaller boy back and forth. He had read about it in a parenting book, but he knew in his mind that Jack was much too big. His instincts didn’t seem to care. So he held his boy as tightly as he could, whispering his apologies to his unhearing ears, hoping that wherever he was, it was better and he was safe, and with his mother. 

And while he did so, he felt Dean stop breathing beside him. The tears turned to sobs that turned into heaving, and his muscles began to weaken with the force of it. Against his will he felt Sam pull Dean’s body away from him, and when he could finally see through his tears, Sam was holding Dean tight against him, still as a stone expect for the hand that was running through his short hair. And somehow, Dean seemed more comfortable there. His body seemed to belong there, with his brother and it hit him then. Dean didn’t need anybody but Sam, he never did. There was no room in his shielded heart for anyone but his brother, his family. 

“Sam. Sam, I’m so sorry.” Cas tried to speak.

“Enough Cas. Just, enough.” 

It took some effort, but Sam stood from the ground, picking his brother up in his arms. He carried him out of Cas’ sight, closing the door behind him without a word.  It took everything in him not to get up, to chase Sam out of the room and pull Dean back into his arms where he belonged. The cold metal of the ring on his finger felt like it was burning, begging him to take it off and throw it across the room, but he knew he couldn’t. So he just watched as Sam left, until all that was left was the darkness of the room, the weight of Jack in his arms, and the knowledge that he had lost everything that had ever loved him back.

* * *


End file.
